


Ground Control

by Terrantalen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Divergence, First Time, Gay Awakening, M/M, Seduction, Written Pre-Deathly Hallows, fluff if you squint, shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:37:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrantalen/pseuds/Terrantalen
Summary: There is a war. Draco is a spy. Harry is his contact.Written for a LJ challenge way back in 2005, this fic was my first foray into slash. Posting a slightly revised version.





	Ground Control

Harry walked through the thicket, the soft crush of fallen leaves the only noise he could hear beyond the susurration of the canopy above him. The air was crisp and dry, a beautiful October day that had somehow managed to struggle its way through the almost perpetual rain that had been thrashing the area. Harry walked in the direction of a particularly knotty oak, a king in his court, old and hoary. 

He heard the snap of a twig off to his left and turned toward the sound. Draco Malfoy looked particularly pale against the vivid orange of the fall leaves, but the deep green cloak he wore with its silver clasp caught Harry’s eye and held it, making him the focal point of the scene.

“Potter,” Malfoy said, coming closer, “you make more noise than a cow with a bell on.”

“Do you have the report?” Harry asked not wanting to converse more than was necessary.

Malfoy reached inside his cloak and pulled out a creamy piece of parchment that was tied with black string, “Here. Careful who you let read that, I think you’ve a spy.”

Harry nodded, “We reckon the same,” he said and then turned to go. 

Malfoy caught his arm, “Potter, be very careful about who you let read that.”

“I will,” Harry said once it became apparent that Malfoy wasn’t going to release him until he said so. Malfoy continued to stand too close, his eyes locked with Harry’s. Gradually his expression changed from one of incredulity to one of acceptance. He let go of Harry’s arm and turned to walk back into the woods.

 

 

The warm light of the pub contrasted sharply with the darkness outside of it as Harry stepped out of the door onto the cold street. He tried to curl further into his jacket to shield himself from the piercing wind that cut through the labyrinthine streets of Wizarding London with little success. He walked along the sidewalk, moving from one pool of yellowish light to the next, toward the end of the street where he saw a hooded and cloaked figure standing. 

Malfoy threw back his hood, “You’re late.” His cloak blew petulantly in the wind, “I’ve been here for nearly a half-hour; I was just about to leave.”

“You’ve got it then?” Harry asked.

Malfoy’s hair whipped around his face, “Of course I’ve got it.” He searched around under his cloak eventually producing a thicker bundle of parchment than usual. He extended his richly gloved hand and Harry went to take the bundle but Malfoy suddenly retracted it. Harry reflexively stepped closer to retrieve it and Malfoy moved it farther back out of his reach.

“What are you playing at, Malfoy?” Harry asked, annoyed by Malfoy’s wry smirk.

Malfoy took a step toward Harry and Harry felt Malfoy's warm breath against his cheek. Malfoy leaned closer to him, his lips lightly touching Harry's ear as he whispered, “Don’t make me wait next time."

Harry seized the papers and stumbled back out of Malfoy's space. He walked away, turning back only once to see Malfoy's eyes crinkled with amusement, staring after him as he passed under a street lamp.

 

 

Snow, cold, wet, and heavy fell from the slowly darkening steel-grey sky as Harry walked toward the dilapidated old farm house. Leafless trees, their bark black and wet, grew close to the house; occasionally one of their branches would snap and fall under the weight of the snow, but otherwise there was no noise. 

Harry trudged up the front steps, slush seeping into his shoes. He pushed open the door and warm air rushed toward him. He looked around the room, noting the fire that blazed in the old stone fireplace and the two imposing leather chairs that were arranged around it. He shut the door and brushed the snow out of his hair. Malfoy's cloak was hung on a peg near the door. Harry stepped into the living room.

“Potter,” Malfoy said from a narrow doorway that led to the kitchen of the house. He wore a thin looking emerald sweater that was slightly tight across his chest and a pair of grey trousers the same shade as the sky outside. Malfoy extended a glass of fire whiskey toward Harry.

Reluctantly, Harry took the glass from him. Their fingers brushed. A chill ran down Harry's spine. 

“Report?” Harry asked after taking a sip of his drink.

“Of course,” Malfoy replied blithely. He situated himself on the chair farthest from the door, “Sit,” he said gesturing to the other one. 

Harry sighed and sat down. Malfoy took a sip of whiskey and licked his lips. “Have you rounded up your spy?” he asked after a moment.

“No, not yet.”

“Reports have stopped. I’d take a look at your injured,” Malfoy said taking another slow pull of his whiskey, his pale throat aglow in the light of the fire as he swallowed. He drained the glass and then set it down on the dusty floor, caressing the edge before bringing his hand back up to rest on his thigh.

Harry jerked his gaze away from Malfoy’s hand to his face, Malfoy’s expression clearly communicating that he knew that Harry was watching him. Harry set his glass down on the floor and then stood up, “I need to go.”

“The report is in the kitchen,” Malfoy said gesturing over his shoulder but otherwise making no move. 

Harry started to walk past Malfoy’s chair but Malfoy caught his wrist and drew a circle around Harry’s pulse point with his finger. 

“Malfoy,” Harry began, but stalled when he felt Malfoy’s lips against the underside of his wrist. He swallowed thickly, “Malfoy,” he said again.

Then Malfoy let go of his wrist. Somehow, Harry didn’t feel that was what he had been asking for. 

 

 

Pale sunlight dappled the floor of the church while black-clad muggles walked out in a line. Harry watched them from the hind-most pew as they left in varying degrees of grief, following the ebony box that four large men bore. He felt a hand on his right arm and looked away from the center aisle to see Malfoy, who, luckily enough, was dressed in black.

He handed his report to Harry just as the last of the muggles exited leaving them completely alone. Harry tucked the parchment inside his jacket then began to scoot down the pew.

Malfoy put his hand on Harry’s thigh.

Harry stared at Malfoy’s hand as it slid to the inside of his thigh and up toward Harry’s cock. Harry’s breathing accelerated as Malfoy palmed Harry’s cock through his trousers. Harry was already half-hard. Malfoy shifted his position, placing one knee over Harry’s leg so that he was in front of him. He kissed Harry’s neck, slowly making his way to Harry’s mouth. Harry gasped helplessly as Malfoy slid his tongue between Harry’s lips.

Too soon, Malfoy pulled away and looked, in a very annoyed fashion, toward the center aisle. Harry turned his head to see a frowning priest with his arms folded across his chest. Malfoy smiled at Harry before giving him a peck on the lips, causing the priest to make an affronted ‘ugh’ sound, and then stood up. He walked out of the pew and winked at the priest before leaving the church.

 

 

Harry fingered the key in his pocket as he counted the chipped brass numbers on the doors of the motel. He stopped in front of room thirty one. He didn't have to do this. He shouldn't do this. 

He pushed the key into the lock. 

Malfoy was sitting on the bed with his back resting against a pile of pillows. His grey shirt was only half buttoned, his long legs stretched out on the bed. He looked up at Harry with a lazy smile and pointed to the nightstand where the report was sitting in plain view. Harry took it and put it in his pocket.

Malfoy sat up a bit, his hair mussed, “I heard about you and Weasley. When is the big day?”

“May,” Harry answered quietly.

Malfoy smirked, “Lovely time of year for a wedding.” His eyes drifted to the side of the bed closest Harry, a knowing look on his face. 

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and took his shoes off, his back to Malfoy. Malfoy’s fingers slid Harry’s coat from his shoulders and he tossed it to the ratty chair. He kissed Harry’s neck just below his earlobe, biting lightly while his fingers began to undo the buttons on Harry’s shirt. Harry leaned backward until his back touched Malfoy’s chest. Malfoy wrapped his legs around Harry and Harry could feel the other man’s cock pressing into his arse. Liquid heat collected between Harry's thighs. 

He watched Malfoy's hands as the popped button after button on his shirt, watched the long, elegant fingers as they slid under the fabric and grazed against his nipple, watched as they continued down, down to Harry's trousers, to where they paused.

"Potter, if you want this, you may want to give some indication other than just sitting still."

Harry turned and took Malfoy's lips with his.

Malfoy unzipped him, pushed Harry’s trousers and pants down his legs, making a mewling sound when he saw Harry’s cock. Harry groaned, gently sucked on Malfoy’s bottom lip while Malfoy began stroking him with one hand and thumbing his nipples with the other. Harry thrust in time with Malfoy’s strokes as he began to lose control. He felt the moment building up at the base of his spine, each stroke adding to the electric swell of heat, each movement threatening to topple the brittle levy that held his orgasm at bay. Malfoy tightened his grip on Harry’s cock and _twisted_ in just the right way and Harry came with a loud cry.

Malfoy held him for a moment, let Harry's breath turn easy, then he slid away from him.

He watched as the other man slowly stripped. Malfoy's pale skin, with only the ugly dark mark to mar it, was exposed to him. He undid his trousers, slid them down off his thighs. Harry laid down on the bed and Malfoy positioned himself between Harry’s legs. 

His eyes traced every line of Harry's skin as he ran his fingertips up from Harry's thighs, to his hips, up his torso. He leaned forward, rested upon his elbows over Harry, his body warm and heavy as he draped himself over him. He kissed him as soon as he was close enough, his tongue prising apart Harry's lips, and Harry surrendered to him. Malfoy kissed down Harry’s neck and lavished kisses on Harry’s chest, teased his nipples, touched him, tasted him, until Harry was writhing beneath him.

Malfoy's hardness pressed against Harry's thigh, Harry's pressed into Malfoy's belly. He pulled bac, “Roll onto your stomach,” he said, his voice barely audible above Harry’s labored breathing.

Harry complied, shifting onto his stomach and pushing his cock against the mattress while Malfoy resituated himself between Harry’s legs. Malfoy traced down Harry’s spine, occasionally deviating to a birth mark, but always, he traveled down. 

Harry clutched the comforter tightly as soon as Malfoy’s fingers reached the cleft of his arse. Malfoy inserted a slimy finger into Harry’s rectum causing Harry to moan loudly until Malfoy found his prostate, and then Harry cried out, the sound of someone who was dying. Malfoy worked into him again and again, stretching Harry, preparing him, until Harry was nearly crying he was so desperate for release. He felt Malfoy leaning over him, felt Malfoy’s lips on his back as he slowly pushed his cock inside of Harry. Malfoy’s breathing became unsteady as he buried himself completely inside of Harry, and he stilled, waiting for something.

Finally, he kissed the back of Harry’s neck, experimentally pulling out and then pushing back in, finding Harry’s prostate with his thrust. Harry wailed as Malfoy began to establish a rhythm, each thrust inside of him nearly bringing Harry off. Malfoy reached under Harry for his cock, his thrusts becoming faster and more erratic, his breath coming in short huffs, while Harry’s moaning became louder, the fire and ice in his blood spilling across his skin, his wails building to an eventual crescendo as he came for a second time. He was raw with sensation as Malfoy continued to fuck him, his desperate groans eventually culminating in a whispered sigh of Harry's name.

He stilled. He laid atop Harry for several moments, kissing his back and shoulders when he pulled out of him. Malfoy stood up and Harry watched him dress, trying to rationalize what had just happened. Malfoy returned to the bedside and kissed Harry on the lips, lingeringly, before leaving.

 

 

The frosted blades of grass shimmered where the rising sun glanced off them. A few trees were already pregnant with buds in anticipation of spring and a lone bird sang in the distance. Harry saw Malfoy waiting for him near the trunk of a horse chestnut tree. Malfoy looked at Harry nonchalantly and handed him his report, then turned on his heel and left.

Harry fingered the parchment and watched Malfoy as he walked away over the lawn, his white-gold hair glinting in the pale spring sunlight. 

He turned the report over one final time before pocketing it and then he walked back the way he came.

 

 

Harry married Ginny on the twelfth of May, a day on which it rained so heavily that the streets flooded. Mud was the only gate-crasher at the reception.

Three months after that, Malfoy began giving his reports to Ron. 

 

 

It was late November and all of the leaves were off the trees. A few dusty, brown ones skittered down the alley as Harry walked to the end of it. He stepped around several bags of garbage that had been piled near a dumpster and narrowly missed stepping on a carton of maggot infested takeout. He made a face and proceeded to a rusting old fire escape that looked like it would fall if a severe breeze blew. He leaned back against the brick wall underneath it and waited, closing his eyes.

He heard footsteps off to his left as the soles of hard heeled shoes collided with the pavement. He opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the noise.

Malfoy’s blonde hair stirred fitfully as a gust of wind whipped through the alley, causing the fire escape to creak. His cheeks were pink from the cold and his breath crystallized as it left his mouth. He stopped when he stood in front of Harry, his expression impossible to read.

“Is it true, what I’ve heard?” he asked after a moment.

Harry glanced down at the pavement, wishing to hide his expression from the other man, “About me and Ginny? Yes.” 

He heard Malfoy sigh, “Might I ask what went wrong?”

Harry bit his bottom lip, “I think you know.” He looked up at Malfoy, whose eyes were watering in the cold.

Harry touched Malfoy’s cheek and Malfoy inclined to the touch before stepping back. He dug around under his coat and produced a piece of parchment which he handed to Harry. Harry took the parchment, put it inside his jacket, and then pulled Malfoy by his lapels into a kiss. Malfoy pushed Harry back roughly, smashing his head against the bricks and knocking the wind from his lungs, causing Harry to see stars. He wrapped an arm around Malfoy’s back, his other hand he pressed against Malfoy’s neck, pulling him as close as he could. Malfoy licked the inside of Harry’s bottom lip while Harry painted Malfoy’s top teeth with his tongue, reveling in the indistinct set of flavors that was him. 

Suddenly Malfoy broke their kiss. He touched the side of Harry’s face and then walked out of the alley. After a moment, Harry followed him.


End file.
